if looks could really kill
then my profession would be staring
my secrets for a buck
watch me as i cut myself wide open
a night like this is begging to pull me apart
have another drink and drive yourself home
i hope there's ice on all the roads
the tide's out
the ship's run aground
we drown traitors in shallow water
my tongue's the only muscle on my body that works harder than my heart
don't you see
that the charade is over
i'm waiting for blood
to flow to my fingers
i'll be alright when my hands get warm
i'd rather say nothing
so don't be a liar
you smile like a saint
but your eyes say the jokes on me
she thinks she'll be my tourniquet
i stay wrecked and jealous for this
face down and dead across your floor
literate and stylish
kissable and quiet
that's what girls' dreams are made of
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